


electricity between both of us

by muchlessvermillion



Series: pitch like coal and messy too [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Developing Relationship, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Healthy Relationships, Multi, Needles, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Relationship Negotiation, Sloppy Makeouts, Xenobiology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchlessvermillion/pseuds/muchlessvermillion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TG: goddammit rose no have you learned nothing<br/>TG: we do not get jiggy with the weird clowns<br/>TG: we do not ride in the clown car rose that clown car is coming down the street all tiny and shit and brightly painted and its full of evil</p><p>In the aftermath of the game, Rose Lalonde finds herself exploring hobbies, places, people she may not have otherwise had the chance to consider. Playing pitch with Kanaya for the sake of psychology had been one thing. This was very, very different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	electricity between both of us

**Author's Note:**

> The long-promised prequel to I want you so much (but I hate your guts), my original Kurloz/Rose work. After I posted it, I had folks asking how they got together, so here that is.
> 
> I'd usually put my notes at the end, but I did want to warn about a graphic description of a mouth being sewn shut in the fic. It's all consensual and sterile and everyone involved is comfortable with it, but I know some people are squeamish about needles, so I wanted to give some advance notice, just in case.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Title is again taken from Landfill by Daughter.

It was not long before Rose noticed Kurloz- it was hard not to, especially when one felt compelled to examine all twelve of their new troll associates, as well as those that had died or skedaddled before she had been established on the meteor. Of course, Kanaya was a great help in understanding who was who and learning gossip that trolls might not tell foreign humans- they huddled together, holding hands, twin painted smirks on their lips, pointing and whispering and giggling in a way that made all those surrounding very uncomfortable, and that was how they preferred it. 

In this new world, they had all come out whole. Even wounds from before the game had healed, and only scars remained. Terezi kept a red scarf tied around her eyes, still walked with her cane. Vriska pronounced her eyepatch 8adass and refused to throw it out. Tavros, on the other hand, returned to walking with new vigor, and Rose stroked fingers over the scarred place where Kanaya had once been blown through. It did not take long for Rose to note that despite Kurloz Makara's presumably restored tongue, he still spoke in sign language. There appeared to be only three others that could respond in kind- the elder Lejion, the Captor in the helmet, and Terezi's teal-flushed genetic predecessor. Others simply waited until Kurloz had someone nearby that would translate his signing. No one seemed perturbed by his lack of speech, save for those who were already discomfited whenever he was near. Rose was intrigued. Intrigued and, unsurprisingly, very bored. It had been a long stretch of constant vigilance and fear, spotted throughout by ventures into the shallowest depths of alcoholism, since recovered. It had been a long stretch of comfortable routine, with only a few others nearby, all of whom she either knew very well or not at all. 

Now she, and the rest, were surrounded by people, chattering and pairing off, revitalizing old relationships and stale habits. Kanaya and Porrim sewed together and often used Rose as a model, which she was happy to indulge. Dave, seemingly maturing, had avoided any outright masculine chest-beating competition with his pseudo-brother, though they did spend time together- wary, guarded time, but time nonetheless. He and Karkat still hung out very often, actually living within the same hive complex, though not in the same compartment. Sollux, who Rose had never really met, soon joined them. Karkat seemed to be carefully rekindling his friendship with Terezi, who in turn was speaking regularly to her dancestor and Vriska Serket, whom Rose viewed as a classic case of narcissism, inflated ego designed to hide deeper insecurities, cruelty designed to keep herself above others, a complete and utter inability to understand how anything might be her fault. Rose had begun to bond with the teenage version of her mother, and had actually also formed a companionship with Dave's brother- the two of them often worked long hours in silence, next to each other, and exchanged witty repartee for breaks. Jade and Dirk got along well, and she and Rose were as close as they had been as children. All in all it was a positive change, aside from those whose rivalries had not died with them. There was a strict rule against more death and mayhem, however- mostly enforced by Karkat Vantas, and thus far no one had been killed.

Lovely as Roxy was, though, lovely as Kanaya and Porrim were, lovely as Jade was, wonderful as it was spending time with new and old, Rose couldn't shake her ennui. She craved a way to change up the social order, a new bond. Three years on a meteor, and then time spent fighting a final war- she was tired of what she had always known. She had no desire to shed her old friends, no, of course not. But she wanted to add someone new to the list, or a new hobby, something to keep her occupied and keep her mind engaged. She had knitted scarves galore already, had let Kanaya prick her with needles and kiss the hurts in apology, had driven Dave to distraction, had written wizard fiction with Roxy until they were exhausted. She had even taken up violin again, and amusing as the lopsided alchemized version was, it just wasn't what she wanted.

The solution that came to her was elegant in its simplicity.

TT: Dave, do you know anything about Makara the elder?  
TG: what do you mean tall dark and creepy  
TT: Yes, that one. Otherwise known as the man who refuses to take off his skeleton pajamas.  
TG: i dont fuckin know lalonde i dont exactly go out of my way to talk to the guy  
TG: im not all up in his grill like hey weird potentially murderous clowncousin you give me a lot of serial killer vibes with the whole silent but deadly drill  
TG: why do you even want to know  
TT: I'm considering taking up sign language. We have a lot of free time now that we're not all constantly on the verge of death. A woman can only knit so many scarves before her patience begins to unravel, much like the yarn itself.  
TG: you out of patience for making out with hot alien babes too  
TT: One can only have so many orgasms before one grows sore, Dave.  
TG: oh  
TG: ew  
TT: So am I to assume I must speak to him myself in order to get any sort of proper read on him?  
TG: why not go for the lejion chick or something like  
TG: why pick the skinny scary motherfucker thats always smiling a little i dont understand you lalonde  
TT: I was hoping for something of a challenge.  
TG: of course you were  
TG: okay well dont come crying to me when he skins you and wears your face as a mask  
TT: Don't be silly, Dave.  
TT: I could hardly cry without any skin. I'd be dead.

When she was satisfied that all of her friends and acquaintances knew equally little about the older Makara- including Porrim, who could only recount age-old quadrant drama and tsk tsking about his fashion sense, Rose decided to approach him herself. Kanaya came along, but hovered back upon actually reaching the group, watching with her hands clasped before her. The small cluster surrounding Kurloz included Meulin Lejion, Mituna Captor, and Latula Pyrope, all speaking rapidly (except Kurloz, who signed in response- and when speaking to him directly, each of the others signed as well), with the occasional off-color exclamation from Mituna and a snigger from Latula. Meulin's grin was unfaltering, and her giggle punctuated her sentences like commas. Kurloz, on the other hand, kept his face in the same neutral smile. It was this fixed look that she focused on, even as the trolls quieted upon her approach.  
"Hello." She gave them all a nod, and then focused her attention once more on Kurloz. "I'll get right to the point. I'd like to learn sign language and I was wondering if you'd consider teaching me." There was a long moment in which they all seemed to process that she was, in fact, speaking to Kurloz. Then he turned to Captor, and signed rapidly.  
"He wants to know why- why the everliving fuck you want to learn from him when he won't be speaking through his mouth. Shit's hard."  
"That's not how he said it though, dude, just so you know." Latula added, nudging her sniggering matesprit playfully in the ribs.  
"There are other methods." Rose replied, with a quirk of a grin. "Illustrative guides. Elaborate hand gestures. And I've heard some rumors about mental communication." There was another pause, and then Kurloz's hands got moving again. Meulin was giggling into her fingers, pausing to uncaptchalogue a mostly-filled notebook and a pen. Again, it was Mituna who translated.  
"…You're askin' for his voice up in your pan? Are you sure? That shit's pretty whack. Don't even know how it works on humans." He paused, pushing his overlong bangs up out of his eyes. "Like, I'm his moirail and I still only wanna do it sometimes. S'a lot to deal with, you get me? Gets- Hold on, um. Gets, uh, overwhelming, yeah, there we go."  
"I assure you, I'll be fine. I'm no stranger to voices in my head. I've got firsthand experience with horroterrors." Mituna glanced at Kurloz, who shrugged.  
"He's in, then."  
"Perfect." Rose said, clasping her hands before her. "Let's talk details." 

Kurloz arrived to their decided meeting just on time, still wearing that solid smile. Rose closed her notebook and stood respectfully, holding out a manicured hand to shake. He took a moment to reach back, but his grip was firm, his pointed claws digging vaguely into her wrist. She smiled, her mouth shellacked with deep purple, and inclined her head.  
"I don't see much in the way of teaching materials. Am I to assume we'll be learning by doing?" He gave her a long, assessing look, and she grinned back until he nodded.  
" _Sure you can handle me in your pan, sister?_ " He asked, and it felt like a challenge. She quirked her lips, tasting the way his voice felt in her head. It wasn't as bad as her brain burning black. And the language made more sense, too.  
"If I change my mind, you'll know. Where should we begin?"  
" _Well, anythin' you're just aching to know?_ "  
"Hmm." Rose pressed a pondering finger to her chin, exaggerated. "Want to show me how to say 'fuck you'?" He stared at her, and flicked up a middle finger, placid, and she laughed. "Should've guessed. The basics are boring. Sit down with me, talk slow, and sign along with it. Let's see how fast I pick it up." She could swear his mouth twitched.  
" _Thought I was the schoolfeeder here. Ain't I meant to be in charge?_ "  
"Well, if you come up with a better idea, let me know." She plopped down, and crossed her legs. "Until then, tell me the worst thing about Beforus and keep your movements exaggerated." He looked at her as if he wasn't sure whether or not it was worth it to disobey, and then sat, crossing his legs with grace. Rose's smile was all triumph. 

It was like a game, but Rose found she took as much relish in losing as she did winning. Sometimes Kurloz's tongue (Hah! It may have grown back, but the jokes were still funny.) was quicker than hers, and he got in a jab that had her snapping her jaw shut and narrowing her eyes. And that made her wins sweeter, made the prickly flush under her skin stronger, like the tightness after sunburn, like needle and thread. He was hard to read but fun to pick at, and the more they practiced, the cleverer Rose got with her hands, the more she felt like he was something akin to a friend. They gossiped, his fingers flying along with the voice in her head, and the cold touch of his leg just barely grazing her knee. She brought books for him to read, and in return he told her stories about his friends and his culture, both close and far from the Alternian knowledge she'd picked up from Kanaya. He told her about his religion, cults of mercy and pain and laughing, and though at first Rose thought she'd have to fight down snickers in response, she found herself interested.

There were some things they didn't touch, that were off-limits, stories neither of them wanted to tell. They found those by poking at them until someone winced. It would have wounded Rose's pride to tell him what was too much, but she didn't have to- he watched until her lips tightened in the corners, until he felt the tension in her mind build, and then he moved away before he made it snap. 

It was interesting, how much fun you could have with someone without ever fully letting down your guard. Dave had seen her at her worst and didn't treat her differently. Jade had a second-sight for tension and pain, and always knew when to slip her hand into Rose's and squeeze. Any time he thought Rose looked blue, John would crack stupid jokes at her until he got her to smile- whether she wanted to or not.

Rose could be weak around Kanaya- more than that, she wanted to be weak around Kanaya. At the end of a hard day, she could bury her face in the curve of Kanaya's neck until she felt normal again. She could press tight into Kanaya's collarbone and feel her lips at the crown of her head. She could sit next to her on the couch with a book, just their legs touching, and sit in silence until things felt right. And Kanaya could be weak for her too. 

Rose didn't want to be weak around Kurloz. It felt like a trap, like every word was the next move in a game of chess played out on a board too big to see the end of. It was wonderful.

She went to Kanaya to talk about it the moment she suspected, leaning against her shoulder and playing with her fingers and telling her everything she was feeling, from the excited, frightened tingle in her spine to the bite of satisfaction, and Kanaya nodded along.  
"And do you think he feels the same?" Kanaya asked, when she had finished. Rose froze, her fingers twitching against Kanaya's wrist.  
"Do you mean to say you'd be comfortable with me pursuing it? I know that for a while, we played pitch, and I wasn't sure if-"  
"Rose," Kanaya murmured, her mouth to Rose's temple. "While I enjoyed our experimentations, my feelings for you have always ran bright, even when we had our... dalliances. I see no issue in you pursuing your crush." Rose flushed at the word- it sounded so childish. "Unless, of course, you would object to me getting a kismesis of my own."  
"Of course not!" Rose replied, bolting upright. "I would never ask you to limit yourself that way."  
"I thought not, dear." Rose relaxed against her partner’s side again, her fingers nudging into the curl of Kanaya’s callused palm.  
"Red for you, Kanaya. And sometimes pale."  
"And I for you, Rose."

It was shockingly easy to begin flirting with Kurloz, once she had the go-ahead from her matesprit. Pressing her knees to his when they talked. Getting into his space when there was no need for it. Elbowing and teasing and wearing her heels sharp and black and tall. But flirting wasn't enough, really. Kurloz seemed amused, and distant, and clean, and she wanted to bloom bruises on his skin with her fingers. He certainly wasn't avoiding her advances- but he wasn't moving it forward, either, because this was part of the game. Neither of them wanted to be the one to break first. Rose needed something subtle, and elegant, and horrible.

TT: Karkat is something of an expert on troll romance, isn't he?  
TG: well he sure thinks so  
TG: whats wrong lalonde  
TG: is the spark dying is maryam pissed because you wore the wrong shade of blue or somethin do you need to buy her flowers to repair your fractured relationship but its like a bandaid and doesnt fix the real issue am i going to be a child of divorce  
TT: Kanaya and I are fine, thank you for your misplaced concern. Better than fine, in fact. I'm trying to get a present for Kurloz, and Karkat hasn't been responding to my messages. I figured the two of you were doing something, and you always answer your texts.  
TG: no way  
TG: you better not be trying to say youre into the guy  
TT: ;)  
TG: goddammit rose no have you learned nothing  
TG: we do not get jiggy with the weird clowns  
TG: we do not ride in the clown car rose that clown car is coming down the street all tiny and shit and brightly painted and its full of evil  
TG: especially not kurloz that guy gives me the fuckin willies standing there all silent he makes a dude have to get his talk on  
TG: next thing you know im chatting myself up like an idiot  
TG: freestyling under my breath like some kind of rap themed nervous tic  
TT: To be fair, that sounds rather like your average behavior.  
TT: Will you talk to Karkat about pitch courtship?  
TG: why dont you just come over yourself man  
TT: I'm lazy, and your hivestem is far away. You live next door to him. You're probably in his room right now. Just tap him on the shoulder.  
TG: ugh  
TG: fine  
TG: i still think this is a terrible idea fyi  
TT: Noted.

Karkat did not know much about Kurloz. However, he did make it clear to her that it was important to make a black advance distinct, personal, and infuriating. Too perfect and it could tip the line over into red, and confuse the recipient- which was great for older couples trying to spice things up, but could muddle everything up when trying to get someone into a specific quadrant. Rose was taken in red and pale (scandalously, by the same troll), and so was Kurloz (disappointingly, by two different trolls). She didn't want him to misinterpret. It wasn't likely he would think she was angling for ashen, considering neither of them had black partners, but she wanted to make herself clear enough to avoid the possibility anyway, because Kurloz was just awful enough to willfully misunderstand, solely to bother her.

In the end, she went traditional, and simple. She made a bouquet of the most pollen-filled flowers she could find, the ones that made you sneeze and tear up and got your eyes to itch, and left them with a flash drive that contained a ten minute video of her silently signing all the insults she could think of. Certainly worked better than a card.

Kurloz didn't respond right away, and at first Rose thought perhaps she had misread the situation. She was considering an apology, but then she noticed he was watching her- his dark eyes followed where she went, considering, thoughtful. He watched her realize, and just smiled, unashamed, and did not approach. 

So Rose waited. She’d done her part, after all. The ball was in his court. 

Soon after, when she was home alone in the hive she shared with Kanaya, there was a knock on the door. Rose set down her knitting, paused her movie, and went to open it. Kurloz stood on the other side, silently smiling that placid smile.  
“ _Hey, sister,_ ” he whispered into her thoughts. Rose stepped aside to let him in.  
“Did you need something, or is this a social call?” Rose asked, already heading towards the kitchen. “Would you like some tea? Fruit?”  
Kurloz didn’t seem to eat much. She had never seen him do so in her presence, at least. She asked because she knew he wouldn’t say yes. She could make herself a pot, though.  
“ _Actually, a motherfucker was up and wondering if he could borrow a needle and some thread. Neighbor-like._ ” The way he said it, “thread” almost sounded like “threat.” Rose turned to arch one eyebrow at him, delicately crossing her arms over her chest.  
“For what?” She asked. Kurloz mimed zipping his lips, like a child telling someone to be quiet. Rose considered it a moment. “How will you eat?” She asked, and heard a chuckle in the back of her mind that stood her hairs on end.  
“ _Didn’t know you cared so, sister mine._ ” She scowled at him. “ _There’s ways of gettin’ nutrition into a thorax that don’t need the mouth to open much, don’t you fret._ ”  
“Tell you what,” Rose began, rolling her words over her tongue carefully. “I’ll sew you shut myself. Make sure it doesn’t get too messy.” She grinned sharp at him. “Question is, what’s in it for me?”  
“ _Ain’t you ever heard of friendly charity?_ ” He asked, voice amused.  
“No.” She said. “I’ll go get my sewing kit. You take a seat at the table and consider what you’re going to do to pay me back.” 

When Rose returned, she was surprised to find Kurloz actually sitting at the kitchen table like she’d asked, examining his black-lacquered claws for chipped paint. She slammed the clear plastic box full of sewing supplies down before he could change his mind about listening to her. It was an utter mess; tangled spools of multicolored thread and unsheathed needles jumbled together in the compartments, but there was more than enough neat string for one troll’s mouth.  
“What color do you want?” Rose asked, leaning a little silver lighter against the box. “We could get fancy with it. Do you up in chartreuse, or some nice ugly orange.” Kurloz had looked up from his nails and was watching her over his fingertips, his eyes wide and dark, his mouth in a soft, neutral line.  
“ _Was something I wanted to do,_ ” He said, ignoring her question. “ _While I still can._ ” And with that he stood, and leant down to kiss her chaste and searing across the mouth. His lips were winter-cool, like biting wind when you step outside, and Rose felt so warm against him. She hooked her fingers into his long hair and grabbed two fistfuls, and used them to yank herself up closer, up onto her tiptoes. Kurloz sucked a breath through his teeth before he could stop it, and she felt satisfaction spike in her belly. He was long and cold and bony, and she was short and round and warm, and she bit hard at his lower lip and felt the give of thick troll skin under her teeth. He smiled in response, and she could feel it against her lips, against her tongue when she swiped it carefully over his jagged highblood fangs.  
He had nothing on Kanaya, when it came to canines, and Rose knew how to kiss without cutting her mouth open on his teeth. He had an arm around her, his hand clenching hard into the fabric of her shirt. She felt the cloth split a little beneath his claws, and felt a thrill down her spine, up her thighs. The cold wet of his tongue against her lips was a surprise, and she breathed in hard and pulled herself harder against him, her muscles shaking with adrenaline as she gave up on trying to haul herself up to his height and instead wrapped herself around him, leaned hard into his chest, and trusted in him to keep her up. He didn’t disappoint. He stood steady, and he kissed her like he really did hate her. She could feel his little rumblespheres against her chest, could feel his heart beat double time in his thorax, and she dug her nails into the back of his neck, mourning that they weren’t harder and longer. 

After a long while, they pulled back, smiling and breathing against each other’s faces. Rose could feel his fangs tight to her cheek, not quite hurting her but so close to it, and the little bit of threat there made her grin wider.

" _You,_ " Kurloz said admiringly, and his voice in her head didn't sound even a little breathless, but she knew better. " _Are a vicious bitch._ "  
"That's me,” Rose agreed. "And you're a manipulative piece of shit. You sure you want to sew your mouth up? I might miss those teeth." His smile slipped.  
" _Sure as sure can be. Don't take it personal, sister. I gotta do what I gotta do. Besides,_ " and his eyes got sharper. " _Maybe I'll let you snip my stitches for special occasions._ " His lips twitched when she rolled her eyes, and she could hear his laugh in the back of her head.  
"Oh, I'm honored." Rose said, and untangled herself from his hair. "Then sit. I'll sterilize the needle. Too bad it won't actually shut you the fuck up."  
" _You'd miss our talks._ " He said, his hands signing along. She flicked the lighter open under her chosen needle, twisting it through the flame.  
"Oh, dear sweet silence," Rose intoned. "I miss you so. I long for your soft embrace. Color?" Kurloz waved his finger over a spool of basic black; thick, sturdy thread made for seams on cushions. "Boring." Even as she said it, she squeezed the end of the thread between her fingers and squinted to try and get it through the needle's eye. It took a few tries -with Rose swearing at each unsuccessful pass- but eventually she pushed it through, and scrambled to tug the thread further before it could slip back out. She knotted it tight, fingers feeling clumsy and huge against the pinprick hole of metal, and held the needle up triumphantly. Kurloz was watching her with his arms crossed over his chest. Rose scooted her chair closer with a squeal of tile, and sized him up. 

Skin, especially troll skin, was much thicker than the cloth she was used to sewing. She'd have to push it through, and keep the stitches close and careful and tight. Kurloz could not get a new mouth as easily as she could replace cloth if she poked too many holes in it- though trolls healed fast, and didn't scar so easy. 

Rose felt as if this was a test. She had to prove herself worthy. The needle felt bigger than ever in her hands, warming slowly against her skin. 

"Are you sure?"   
" _Why?_ " Kurloz asked, his eyes warm. " _Havin' second thoughts? Could always to do it myself._ " She kicked at him, catching his shin with the pointed toe of her boot.    
"Fuck off, Makara. I'm just making sure you really want me to go and poke holes in you." He looked at her a moment and then grinned, with all his teeth, like he wouldn't be able to with his mouth sewed tight.   
" _I trust you._ " His voice was so nonchalant in the back of her head, like it wasn't a big deal, and Rose's tongue flicked out to wet her lips. She leaned in, and pressed the tip of the needle to the corner of Kurloz's mouth, at the bottom.   
"Ready?" Rose asked.   
" _Ready, sister mine._ " Kurloz replied, keeping very still against her needle. 

It was a harder push than she'd expected, to get through the tough skin on the outside. But once she punctured that, she had to ease up, not push too hard. Kurloz was watching her, steady, his chest moving with each breath. She cupped his cold cheek with her other hand, holding him in place, and watched the silver tip of the needle pop up inside his mouth. Kurloz's eyes shuttered closed, and he leaned into her hand.   
"You okay?" Rose asked, running her thumb across his cheekbone. He shivered, and his voice was gravelly with disuse, a layer of thick dust on the lining of his throat.   
"Uh-huh." Kurloz grit out, and Rose felt his real, out-loud voice in her bones.  
"Good." She said, and pushed the needle up again into his upper lip, and pulled the thread through the hole. She tried to keep it straight, not yank towards her, and when she’d pulled enough, she turned the needle around and went back down, into Kurloz’s top lip this time. He pushed out a harsh breath, and did not lean away. Rose worked the needle through his skin, through the flesh, a little pinprick of slow-moving purple blood easing its way out around the holes she made. Where the needle went, thick black thread followed behind, sliding slickly through blood and saliva. 

“Are you still sure about this?” Rose asked, halfway through. It felt silly to ask, with him shuddering in her hands and his lips nearly full of black thread. “Just wanted to ask, since it’d be easier to cut it now than when it’s all done.”  
“ _Still sure._ ” He replied, and he was so careful not to move his lips, a hint of gray tongue just barely peeking out from behind the last of his visible teeth. He was so pliant against the firm press of her palm, his breath brushing past her knuckles, his eyes nearly closed. Rose’s toes curled in her socks with the feel of it, the way he followed where her hand guided, leaned his lax mouth towards her needle rather than away. She felt like she had gotten the hang of sewing up a moving target, her fingers hurting but hurting in a way that meant a job well done, gripping tight to the slight silver instrument, watching intently as each new stitch pulled taut through the matching holes and up through his mouth, up over his nose, before she brought it back down again. With each new prick he trembled, just slightly, but made no sound, and made no move to pull away. 

Finally, with a feeling almost like disappointment, Rose came to the very edge of his lips, and pulled her last stitch tight. She snapped the thread with her teeth, very aware of how close their mouths were, very aware of Kurloz’s cold hand sliding slow up to her hip. She tied off the thread, and he brought a careful hand to his brand new stitches.  
“ _What do you know. They ain’t half bad._ ” His voice in her head was always infuriating and sweet, itching at the back of her neck, and this time was no different. She narrowed her eyes at him, dropping the purple-stained needle on the table to clean later.  
“You wouldn’t have let me do it if you thought I’d do a bad job. And you’re not fooling anyone, Makara. You could have asked any one of your neighbors for a needle and thread. Porrim would have handed them over without hesitation. But you came straight here. You wanted me to do it for you.” His laugh in the back of her head was high and echoing, his hand sliding over to hers with just a hint of teasing claw, just the slightest sting. “You know,” Rose continued, crossing her legs. “You never did tell me what I get in return.”

**Author's Note:**

> It feels a little jumbled to me, but I'm overall super happy to get it done! I started it forever ago. Anyway, I hope you liked it if you read it, and comments are hugely welcome. Thanks so much!


End file.
